My grandma died December 16, 1964. I was devastated. She was always accepting of me and seemed not to notice my faults. She had mailed her Christmas gifts to us the morning of the evening of her death. The box arrived two or three days after her funeral. It was a macabre feeling, being anxious to find out what she’d sent, knowing she was in her grave.
We rallied and had a wonderful Christmas. The gifts had special meaning, knowing they’d be the last. I still have a tiny jewelry box from that year. My poor brother managed to turn this sad situation into a mess. Grandma had included a small fruit cake in a red tin box. Mother put it up, intending to serve it on a special occasion. Well, my brother Bill must have had a special occasion of his own. Mother found the empty fruitcake can hidden in his room, not a crumb left.
She was furious! He had eaten her dead mother’s fruitcake……….the last gift she’d ever sent. He lived to regret his theft. She didn’t let him forget it for weeks, getting weepy every time she saw the shiny red box, sitting in a place of honor on the table.
This is probably the only documented story of anyone ever actually eating a fruitcake!